


Youth

by orphan_account



Series: The Indieverse [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bigender Lafayette, Bisexual Mulligan, Closeted Character, Closeted John Laurens, Coming Out, Everyone Is Gay, First Meetings, Fluff and Angst, Homosexual Laurens, Hurt/Comfort, Indie Hamilton, Lafayette-centric, M/M, Multi, OT4, Pansexual Lafayette, Pining, Pop-Punk Laurens, Quarterback Mulligan, bisexual Hamilton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 11:54:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5868427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"We are the reckless, we are the wild youth."</p><p>Lafayette met John in a rally, Hercules in a hallway and Alexander in a dorm.</p><p>Lafayette found out they were in love with the three of them on the streets of New York City.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Youth

**Author's Note:**

> "We are the reckless, we are the wild youth  
> Chasing visions of our futures  
> One day we'll reveal the truth  
> That once we'll die before we get there."
> 
> This will be angsty, as well as cute and happy. Life's like that. Lafayette's is no different.
> 
> (This was actually possible because my friends, Kane and Megan motivated me enough to do it. Kane with snapchats. Megan with kind words. Thank you both.)

Lights shone wildly - blue and red. People spoke over each other, young students trying to explain the situation and what had really happened, but Lafayette was ignoring them all, sitting on the back of an ambulance and watching as a paramedic scolded the boy beside them.

They didn't know who he was, but the moment someone had thrown a racist slur at them, the boy had turned around and thrown a wicked right hook to that asshole's jaw. The fight hadn't been pretty, and Lafayette had been gaping the whole time, without being able to move a single finger as a stranger defended their honor.  
  
So now there they were, the both of them, as the paramedic sighed and left the two young students by themselves.  
  
"I -" Lafayette began awkwardly, cringing a little as the boy turned and his split lip began to bleed once again. "Thank you."  
  
They knew their accent was terrible, and perhaps the stranger knew, too, but he smiled (even when the gesture must have hurt because his lower lip was now bleeding profusedly).  
  
"You're absolutely welcome, uh," he narrowed his eyes. " _De rien_ , I think?"  
  
" _Oui_ ," Lafayette smiled. "Is it that obvious?"  
  
"Only a little," he laughed, then raised his hand, knuckles bruised and kind of bloody. Lafayette shook it, still not used to such a cold greeting. "John Laurens."  
  
"Gilbert du Motier Marquis de Lafayette," they responded. "But you can call me Lafayette."  
  
"Well, Lafayette," John Laurens sighed, wiping the blood off his chin. "I'm sorry you had to see that. I usually hold myself back but - that guy just made me so mad, I'm sorry."  
  
"Don't be," they assured him quickly. "You have a black eye because of me, and a, ah, broken mouth, so perhaps I should invite you to a hot drink somewhere near? You, after all, have seem like my white knight."  
  
They were pretty sure they translated it literally, but John Laurens merely laughed, ran his hand once more over his bloody chin and stood. Lafayette followed, offering a handkerchief, which John accepted gratefully, and in a matter of minutes they were sitting down in a bohemian coffee shop, nursing the greatest hot chocolate Lafayette had ever had the pleasure of tasting.  
  
That was - that was how they met John. The southerner, in all his freckled glory, had explained to Lafayette how angry he was about racism, capitalism, homophobia and such. Perhaps Lafayette was strange, and they'd been living under a rock their entire life (highly plausible, due to their terrible, rich and cold upbringing) but suddenly they were faced with entirely new concepts that blew their mind.  
  
In one of their coffee dates, at two in the morning on a Saturday night, John had mentioned transgenderism, and back then Lafayette had merely nodded along, learning about the usual such as women who were men and men who were women. They didn't think more of it.  
  
They learned many other things, mostly about John.  
  
John Laurens was an angry freshmen. He didn't want to do law, but his father was making him. He didn't want to go to South Carolina on Christmas, but his siblings needed him. He didn't want to be sad and angry, but he was.  
  
John also was a hopeless dreamer. He wrote messy poetry and went to pubs and clubs where people would listen to him speaking fast and hard and Lafayette would watch him with their tongue tied because there truly couldn't be anyone else in the world who could speak with such conviction in his speech like John Laurens.  
  
Sometimes he'd sit on the pavement, on one of those tiny, thin, deserted streets of New York City after both him and Laf had made sure they'd get back to their dorms without getting into trouble by pressing a few buttons on his phone and Lafayette would stare at John.  
  
The curls tied at the back of his neck, the freckles on his cheeks and over his nose and above his brow and around his neck, the wide hazel eyes, the cigarette between his lips, the white shirt with some pop punk logo on the breast pocket and his frown. Lafayette was pretty sure that night they fell in love with John, a freefall that they swallowed up.  
  
"That was fun," John had said, smoke cascading upwards from between his lips.  
  
"I didn't understand a few parts," Lafayette confessed, knees pressed together so they'd be grounded to something. "The - the part when you went really fast and you - uh..."  
  
"...and I almost cried, yeah," John took another drag, and Lafayette wondered what smoke would feel like on their lungs. "It's nothing, Laf. It's - it's nobody's problem."  
  
And Lafayette had been eighteen and hesitant, so they had dropped the subject, still thinking about John's cracking voice and the girl beside them sniffling as he'd finished.  
  
John did leave for South Carolina that Winter, for two entire weeks. And meanwhile Lafayette sat in their dorm, watching their room mate John André pack his bags furiously. Aside from both Johns, Laf knew no one else on a personal level at Columbia, so on Christmas they sat at the very corner of their dorm, on their bed, softly crying as snow fell outside.  
  
Then their phone rang.  
  
"Hello?" they asked, because they hadn't seen the ID but they knew who it was - who else would call them on Christmas?  
  
" _Joyeux Noël_!" came John's voice, butchering his mother language and making Lafayette laugh, despite the non stop falling of tears because Christ, John had tried and John had thought about them enough to call them. "I'm so sorry, that was terrible."  
  
"No, no," Lafayette wiped away their ears. "It was - it was fine, John, _mon chér, merci_."  
  
" _De rien_ ," they could hear his smile, and a bunch of screaming children too. "So! What if I told you to look under André's bed so you can get your Christmas present?"  
  
" _Quoi_?" Lafayette froze, their eyes snapping to their missing dorm mate's bed. Only then did they notice there was, indeed, something underneath. "John, did you -"  
  
"I'm sorry I couldn't bring you down here," John sighed as Laf scrambled on their knees to take a box, clad in silver wrapping with a blue bow on top, "But I thought long and hard and bought you the perfect present, so at least you can enjoy a bit of Christmas."  
  
"I did not get you anything, though," Lafayette opened it very careful, the burning behind their eyes getting stronger than before.  
  
"You never have to, Laf," John told them softly. "You're the greatest guy I've ever met, you deserve it, for Christmas or on its own."  
  
And oh, when Lafayette opened it...  
  
"It's," Lafayette choked. "It's a ticket for Les Mis."  
  
"I bought them off a friend of mine, Peggy," John began to explain as Lafayette sobbed, pressing their hand to their mouth so John wouldn't hear them weep. "Since she can't go, due to some family meeting, and she won them at the ticket lottery, she sold them to me, as a favour. You have one, I have the other, so then we can go together in a few weeks."  
  
"Thank you," the French cried, voice breaking.  
  
"Hey, come on, man, don't cry," John teased, though his voice was thick, too. "We're supposed to be grown men, aren't we?"  
  
" _Oui_ ," but they couldn't stop, their heart beating right out of their ribcage. " _Oui_ , _oui_..."  
  
"I knew you'd like them," John laughed a little, but he choked at the end.  
  
And Lafayette did - nobody had given them a thought-out present in a very long time, not since their parents died and their aunt turned her back on them and they left France to start a new life in the States, where nobody would judge them for being rich and maybe liking guys too much.  
  
And John.  
  
" _Merci_ ," Lafayette repeated once they'd calmed down enough, looking up and trying to control their breathing, wiping away tears from his dark cheeks. "It's... _merveilleux_ , John, wonderful."  
  
"Merry Christmas, Lafayette," John said warmly, softly, and perhaps Lafayette was imagining things, but they wanted to believe that there was the slightest trace of love in his voice.  
  
When John came up there was a sagging on his shoulders that hadn't been there before, one Lafayette was quick and efficient to put away with a wide grin and an effusive embrace, the first one they'd ever shared with John. They thought for a moment that they'd crossed a line but then John was hugging them back, thick arms wrapping around their waist and his nose touching their neck. Lafayette hoped he wasn't able to notice their heartbeat picking up.  
  
Somehow, their friendship bloomed from there. Lafayette wanted to believe it was because John was beginning to truly trust him but they knew it was because John was emotionally unstable and he had no one else besides Lafayette to confide in sometimes.  
  
That was until February.  
  
They were in Peggy's dorm - because she had decided to come out of the damn closet once and for all and, before she told her sisters, she had decided to tell Lafayette and John for some reason. So as they left, with John frowning at the floor and Lafayette worrying about John's reaction towards Peggy's "I'm gay as fuck and I can't hide it anymore, even if my father disapproves."  
  
"Hey, John, are you -"  
  
"I DON'T CARE!" a scream echoed through the dorms, and John's head snapped up, eyes narrowed, always ready to get in the middle of a fight for justice. Lafayette hated it so much that it made them fall in love with John a little bit more.  
  
They both were quick to run to the source, where a redheaded girl was backing away from a muscular black guy - who looked deeply hurt.  
  
"Come on, Chelsea -" he tried, his hand moving to hers but she slapped it away.  
  
"I can't believe you!" she sobbed. "You cheated on me!"  
  
"I didn't cheat on you!" he frowned. "I'm bisexual, Chelsea, that doesn't mean I've slept around!"  
  
"Don't touch me!" she slapped his hand once more, and John looked about to intervene when she turned around and ran past the two friends.  
  
"That's Hercules Mulligan," John told Laf in a whisper, watching the poor guy rub his face with a furiously wounded look.  
  
"The football star?" Lafayette whispered back, frowning. "So that was Chelsea Jones."  
  
"Yeah," John frowned.  
  
Lafayette looked down at their still full and hot cup of coffee and began to approach Hercules, ignoring John's warning that it wasn't the best time. They stopped in front of the Sophomore, who looked up with red, startled eyes at the beverage offered to him.  
  
"Uh?" was all he managed to say, looking at Laf, confused.  
  
"I'm Lafayette," they introduced, feeling John stopping right beside them. "And it probably isn't my place but, uh, how do I say this?"  
  
"You deserve better," John piped in from his side.  
  
"Ah, _oui_ ," the French student grinned at their friend.  
  
Hercules Mulligan grinned a little, a curling of the lips which disappeared soon, but it was something. He took a deep breath, looked at Lafayette's coffee and decided to accept it. And, of course, back then he hadn't known about the friendship contract he'd just signed up for, but in the future he'd thank his lucky stars that Chelsea had been a homophobic idiot.  
  
At first John and Lafayette hadn't really been sure what to make of Hercules - he was big, broad, slightly intimidating and more than half of Columbia was in love with the quarterback. But what John nor Lafayette had known was that football was a way of releasing stress for Hercules, and he was actually studying Fashion Design and was a thorough fashion junkie, which Lafayette got really excited about.  
  
So when John was studying for his law exams, Lafayette would sit on the bleachers, a textbook in front of them, and sometimes look up to see Hercules throwing a ball with the grace that only a leopard could have. Sometimes their mouth watered as the quarterback grasped the hem of his shirt and raised it to wipe the sweat away from his face, leaving his defined abs at the perfect angle for Lafayette to see.  
  
The football team of Columbia was almost as nice as Hercules, too. Lafayette, a bit shy at first, had been flustered as everyone of the muscled young men crowded around him as they exited the locker rooms, flirting jokingly with them.  
  
"Hey, guys, come on!" Hercules laughed, bundles in clean clothes with a wide grin as he stopped Lafayette in the middle of the crowd. "Leave him alone, he's got enough attention already!"  
  
"You're a buzzkill, Mulligan!" one of the guys shouted, and Lafayette laughed with them all even though they were blushing madly as Hercules threw an arm around their waist, directing them both away from the football team.  
  
"Where's John?" Hercules asked, and Lafayette thought about how they both were almost the same height yet he always seemed the taller one of the two.  
  
"Studying," they responded easily as they crossed the campus. "Perhaps we should get him something to eat, no?"  
  
"That'd be great," Hercules groaned, throwing his head back. "I'm starving."  
  
It was only because Lafayette knew John's exams would be horrid, and because John had a tendency to eat unhealthily if he was too stressed, that they decided to get proper food in a proper restaurant, wiping out their credit card like always. Then they realized Hercules didn't know, because his eyebrows were almost raised to his hairline.  
  
"Ah," Lafayette frowned as they waited for the meals to arrive. "I, uh, Marquis is a title."  
  
"You're important back in Europe?" Hercules leaned against the wall, curious and not judging them at all and thank God, because Lafayette was pretty sure they were crushing on him, too.  
  
"I suppose," Lafayette shrugged, because they did not want to ever explain just what exactly they were back in Europe. "When my parents died, everything went to me, so -"  
  
"Shit, I'm sorry," Hercules hissed.  
  
And Lafayette would've shrugged it off once more hadn't it been for the fact that Hercules threw his arm around their shoulders once more, only this time he pulled them to his chest and kissed their forehead. Lafayette felt their cheeks burning.  
  
"You know you can build a family, right?" and while Lafayette had no idea what Hercules' family situation was, they were pretty sure that it wasn't pretty great. "It - it doesn't have to be about blood all the time."  
  
Hercules was right in more ways than just one.  
  
John was almost crying when they arrived at his dorm, and his dorm mate was seemingly preparing for a party or something, mumbling _'good luck'_ at John as he left. Lafayette and Hercules had to pry John away from his desk, all burrowing into John's bed and sharing the very much decent French meal Lafayette had chosen.  
  
Lafayette then had been pretty sure that they were the luckiest person in the world, and threw caution out the window as they rested their head on John's shoulder and looped their arm around Hercules', sighing happily. John laughed, Hercules smiled, and they watched Bilbo as he dodged plates and mugs in his hobbit hole.  
  
Passing Political Science as a freshmen was easy enough for Lafayette, and John had struggled a bit but was able to pass. Hercules started summer announcing he had a gift for John and Lafayette, the three of them sitting in John's dorm when he pulled out the most wonderful piece of clothing both John and Lafayette had ever seen.  
  
"Is that a scarf?" John asked, taking his - maroon, soft and intricately knitted - and pressing it to his face. "Oh my god, it's so soft."  
  
"It is," Lafayette marvelled, touching their own, which was a soft cream color. "Oh, _mon chér_ , it's wonderful, _merci_ _beaucoup_!"  
  
"I know summer's starting," Hercules explained, flustered. "But I've been making these for a while and it took me a lot of time, which I didn't have because of practice and studying and -"  
  
"It's great," Lafayette interrupted him with their hand on his. Hercules looked up and a ball of warmth burst inside Lafayette's chest.  
  
"I love it," John groaned into the fabric, rubbing his face all over it and making Hercules and Lafayette laugh.  
  
Before the summer began, Hercules announced that he'd found a job and he'd be staying at the city with his crazy aunt from Ireland, who was sure to give him a hard time by the way he'd described her. John told Peggy, Eliza, Lafayette and Hercules sullenly that he'd have to go back to the South since his father had a job for him.  
  
And that was probably what made Lafayette do it - the desperate, forsaken look on John's eyes and the screaming he'd done that night at that punk club where he'd been stomping on the ground as The Story So Far played loudly. The pack of cigarettes he'd rushed through, the tears in his eyes as Coming Down by Five Finger Death Punch began.  
  
"I bought an apartment," Lafayette said at the doorway of John's dorm, the law student looking up from his bong with red rimmed eyes.  
  
"Wait, what?" he wasn't high - not yet, and Lafayette took the bong and put it away, ignoring John's protests.  
  
"Tell you father _c'asse toi_ ," they grasped John's face because he looked so close to drifting off. "You're staying with me for the summer. Get a job at some hipster café and stay with me."  
  
"You bought a fucking apartment in New York City," John gaped.  
  
" _Oui_ ," Lafayette had shared his monetary situation with John once they'd known he'd understand, given that he was the son of Henry Laurens. " _Oui_ , I did."  
  
John began to laugh, his head falling on Lafayette's shoulder as his shoulders shook. Then he began to cry very loudly, grasping the back of their shirt, clinging to them like a life saver. Lafayette caressed his curls, whispering in French because they knew that John could understand the gist of it now and it calmed him down. Eventually, John's full-blown crying turned to loud breathing and occasional hiccups. That was how Hercules found them both, with Lafayette's shirt wet and John burying his face into their lap.  
  
"What happened?" Hercules questioned, his big hand coming to rest on John's back as worry tainted his features.  
  
"I bought an apartment," Lafayette told him.  
  
Hercules' head snapped up so that his eyes met Lafayette's.  
  
"You did?" his voice was quiet.  
  
"But it is much too big," Lafayette smiled a little. "I cannot promise that you may stay while the classes are around but perhaps during the summer, it'd be best if you stayed with me?"  
  
Hercules had a vulnerable look on his face as he nodded, and the feeling of doing something right settled on Lafayette's stomach like a fullfilling meal. And John called his father and told him of a job he'd gotten at the city, and Hercules dropped much too many clothes on the spare wardrobe at the new apartment, and Lafayette was terrible at cooking but they would be lying if they didn't say that, at the moment, it was the best summer of their life.  
  
Lafayette was pretty sure they were in love with their best friends.  
  
But summer couldn't last forever, and John André agreed to share the apartment because he was sick of dorms, too, and John found a new dorm mate to share. Hercules, unfortunately, was stuck again with George Frederick.  
  
On that first day Lafayette had sat down next to a girl whom he'd never seen before, but when she spoke she had a thick Spanish accent. She was energetic, passionate and after the lecture was over, Lafayette had to introduce themself.  
  
"Ah, hello?" they tapped her on the shoulder, and she turned around, short, purple hair bobbing slightly. "My name is Lafayette. I'm also a foreign student, so should you have any problems, just talk to me, alright?"  
  
The extroverted thing was still slightly new to them, but John had assured them that it was the best way to make friends, as always.  
  
"I'm Sam!" she introduced, shaking their hand. "Very nice to meet you! And thank you! Are you from France?"  
  
" _Oui_ ," they nodded.  
  
"Spain," she confirmed. "This is all so exciting! Everyone's so different!"  
  
"They are," Lafayette nodded, walking out of the class with her. "Do you have any friends yet?"  
  
"I met this real nice person, my dorm mate," she nodded.  
  
"Ah, who is she? Perhaps I kn -"  
  
"They."  
  
Lafayette paused, eyes on Sam, the girl blinking at him with slight defiance.  
  
" _Pardon, quoi_?" they asked, confused.  
  
"They're agender," she explained. "so they use gender-neutral pronouns. They/them/theirs. I also use them: ze/zir/zirs."  
  
"Agender," Lafayette muttered. "I - that's transgender, right?"  
  
"Yes!" ze seemed to brighten up, relieved. "Yeah, it is! Transgender doesn't just mean female to male and male to female. You didn't know that?"  
  
"No," they whispered. "I - I didn't."  
  
"Well, there are so many genders," ze gushed. "Like agender, bigender, trigender, neutrois, third spirit, genderfluid, ge -"  
  
"Excuse me," Lafayette interrupted, their heart stuttering and sweat breaking on the back of their neck. "I - I have class."  
  
Ze frowned, and watched as they rushed through the hallways, breathing laboured and panic rising up on their throat. More than two genders. More than two genders more than two genders morethantwogenders morethantwogendersmorethantwogender -  
  
"Laf!" Peggy called as they ran out of the building, her surprised face flashing before their eyes for a moment.  
  
Lafayette ran - all the way to their apartment, forgetting their classes and their duties and trying not to cry as their legs pumped them through the streets until they were shutting the door behind them, shaking.  
  
The panic attack lasted for a few hours, and Lafayette spent it on the floor, their back on the door, shaking uncontrollably and blinking too hard. And even when it had passed, they still didn't move - not until there was frantic banging on their door and familiar voices drifted from behind it.  
  
John was the first to tackle them into a hug, cursing under his breath as Hercules shut the door behind him and Peggy ran frantic hands rough her hair.  
  
"What happened? Did someone do something?" John parted from Laf and pressed both their foreheads together, a knot forming on their throat at the proximity of their lips to his. "Whom do I need to kill?  
  
"No one, _mon coeur_ ," Lafayette lifted a hand to tangle in John's hair, shutting their eyes and breathing in. "I... panicked."  
  
"You had a panic attack?" Hercules cut in, his big hand moving to rest on their shoulder. Lafayette frowned, nodded and looked at the floor. "Hey, no, Laf, look at me."  
  
They did, and John stepped aside as Hercules' other hand enclosed around their other shoulder.  
  
"Don't be ashamed," his voice was like the depths of the sea that Lafayette missed from Marsellaise. Tears gathered in their eyes. "It's alright to have a panic attack; we all have them at some point. Tell me, what happened?"  
  
" _Je_ -" Lafayette choked, a sob building on their chest. " _Je ne sais pas_..."  
  
They didn't know. They didn't know what was going on, what was wrong with them. They remembered when John had spoken about transgender people, almost a year ago, and Lafayette had wondered if that had been what was wrong with them - that in truth, they were a woman and not a man. They'd quickly dismissed it, because they did not feel like a woman, nor did they have gender dysphoria like transgender people seemed to have.  
  
But -  
  
_"They're agender,"_ ze had said. _"They use gender-neutral pronouns."_  
  
They.  
  
It felt so _right_. It felt like a puzzle piece that they'd been looking for their whole life. One that was much too big, much too in the center to just forget about it. They hadn't been looking for it, not really. So they - they weren't a he, like everyone had assumed. Nor were they a she, like they'd feared.  
  
Lafayette was a _they_.  
  
"It's okay," Hercules grasped their face and Lafayette was forced to come back to reality, one where Hercules' eyes were big and loving and they were drowning in the darkest brown. His thumbs caressed their cheeks, very softly, and Lafayette realized they were still crying. "You're safe, Laf. You're safe, you're alright, there's nothing to fear."  
  
And Lafayette believed him.  
  
Peggy ended up cooking something for the four of them, with Lafayette cuddled into Hercules and their feet underneath John's thigh as the latter rubbed their calf softly. They watched Amelie in French, and at the sound of their mother language they fell asleep, not even noticing when André arrived and asked their friends if they were alright.  
  
After that confession to themself, it was fairly better. Lafayette was still figuring some things out before telling anyone about what they'd found out, but they were pretty sure they were bigender. They ended up apologizing to Sam, who shrugged it off until they blurted out what had truly happened. Even if Sam was to be in Columbia only for a semester, they still needed someone to tell what was going on in their head.  
  
"They will probably understand," ze had told them as they both sat in the bleachers, looking at Hercules catch yet another ball easily. Lafayette almost sighed at the sight. "They're part of the LGBT+ community, right?"  
  
"Hercules is bi," Lafayette nodded. "And John's a very big ally."  
  
"Then you've got nothing to fear!" ze slapped them on the back, and Hercules looked at Laf right then and they knew they weren't ready.  
  
"I'll come out," they promised. "Just - not right now."  
  
And that had truly been for the best, because a few weeks later, when Lafayette finished their lectures for the day, they approached John's dorm only to hear very loud laughter.  
  
The door was open, and when they peeked their head inside, they felt a sharp, hot white pang of pain right on their chest, where their heart was supposed to be.  
  
John's room mate.  
  
"Ah, Laf!" John stood from the bed where he's been sitting, close as hell to this Hamilton kid he'd mentioned once or twice. The freshman looked like hell, but Lafayette guessed he was handsome once he got a few hours of sleep. "Hey! Meet Alexander!"  
  
Alexander Hamilton. He was a Latino kid, with his hair shaven on the side and the rest of his hair touching his shoulder. He had the whole hipster things going on, including a The Neighbourhood poster over his bed. He attempted to stand from the bed but John shoved him back.  
  
"Nope," the southerner told him, playfully, and when the kid pouted Lafayette looked away. Jealousy did not suit them, so they took a deep breath. "You'll have to greet him from your bed."  
  
"Well then," Alexander huffed, then turned to Lafayette. "Hi, I'm Alexander."  
  
"Nice to meet you," Lafayette stepped in, offering a hand when the kid straightened his back and gave him a kiss on each kiss, fluently and smoothly, rendering Lafayette speechless for a moment. "Oh!"  
  
" _John m'a dit que tu est Français_ ," the kid grinned with sparkling eyes and Lafayette blinked, stunned. " _C'est seulement poli te saluer de la bonne manière_."  
  
" _Je n'ai pas parlé Français comme ça depuis longtemps!_ " they gushed. " _Je suis ravi de te rencontrer, Alexander, vraiment._ "  
  
"It's wonderful to meet you, too, Lafayette," Alexander returned, his eyes moving to John. When Lafayette turned to their friend, they found John fighting off a frown, faking a grin.  
  
Ah, of course. Lafayette was monopolizing Alexander.  
  
"I," the French student gave out a shrug. "I better go."  
  
"Ah, Laf," John grasped their arm as they were leaving, and Lafayette looked at the freckled boy with evident hope. "I’m sorry about this? I just need to take care of Alexander because otherwise he’ll die or something.”  
  
"It’s probably best we delay it, _oui_ ,” they said, even though John’s grateful face broke their heart. “I have to study, anyway.”

 

“Yeah, of course,” John knew it was bullshit, but he still let them go.

 

It was childish of them, of course, to feel extremely sad and jealous of a freshmen kid who was rooming with their crush. Lafayette knew John better than anyone, maybe even better than Hercules, who was pretty close to them, so why did they feel like Alexander was a threat?

 

Perhaps because Alexander had a solid gender—one recognized and set in stone. Or maybe it was because even though John claimed to be straight, he still had watched Alex with a distinctly hungry look in his eyes. Lafayette burrowed closer into their scarf, the one Hercules had given them before the summer began.

 

They ended up calling Hercules, who agreed to let Lafayette stay with him if they didn’t distract him from studying. In less than ten minutes, the French PolySci student was burrowed into Hercules’ arms, between pieces of fabric and lace. Hercules sighed.

 

“What happened, Laf?” he asked, his hand moving to bury his fingers into their curly hair. “Weren’t you supposed to be with John on your movie night?”

 

“His room mate’s sick,” they mumbled.

 

“Ah, Hamilton, right? The freshmen,” Hercules asked, rubbing their back with his other hand. “How is he? Is he nice?”

 

“He’s a cute Latino kid who speaks French fluently,” Lafayette breathed in, their shoulders sagging as Hercules’ warmth settled into their very bones.

 

“Ah, you’re jealous,” Hercules laughed.

 

Lafayette attempted to pull back but he only hugged them closer, and they fought the blush spreading from their neck to their cheeks.

 

“I—”

 

“It’s not obvious,” Hercules interrupted them. “Just—sometimes you get this look on your face, when John’s very close to you. John can’t see it but you look the most comfortable I’ve ever seen you.”

 

“He’s our best friend,” Lafayette reasoned. “And he’s straight.”

 

“He claims to be, which is different,” Hercules said but Lafayette pushed on his chest, separating them. The warmth in his eyes made Lafayette sigh in frustration. “You really did think of hiding it, uh?”

 

“I didn’t think it was necessary,” Lafayette shrugged.

 

“Gay?” Hercules asked, sitting on his bed and inviting Laf to it.

 

“Pan,” the French student shrugged, accepting the offer and dropping on the mattress. “Knew since I was a child.”

 

“So you’re in love with John,” Hercules said and—and perhaps Lafayette was being hopeful but he looked serious and morose as he said it. “Are you?”

 

“I don’t know how love feels like,” was their response. “Does it hurt?”

 

“Sometimes,” he leaned back against the wall, sighing a little and giving Lafayette a little smile. “It can hurt—and a whole fucking lot, Laf. The kind of hurt that makes you question the entire world.”

 

“And other times?” they crossed their legs, dropping their head onto Hercules’ shoulder.

 

“Well,” Hercules laughed a little. “Love also makes you do stupid things. It makes you smile for no reason. It can crush your chest or it can lift a really big weight from it. It can make you drown and it can make you fly. It’s a bit like art, I think. You know those really big paintings from artists like Van Gogh or Goya?”

 

“Uh-huh,” Laf shut their eyes.

 

“It’s a bit like that,” Hercules’ hand enclosed around Laf’s, warm and secure, like Hercules always made them feel. “It’s beautiful and colourful and bright and sometimes a little sad.”

 

“Did you love Chelsea?” they asked curiously.

 

“I’d been with her since I was in High School,” Hercules said, and he looked like he was going to say something really important but then swallowed it up. “No, I did not love her, Laf. She was manipulative and I was lonely.”

 

“You’re not lonely now, no?” Lafayette squeezed his hand.

 

“No, I’m not,” Hercules laughed. “I—honestly? I couldn’t be less lonely at the moment.”

 

They both stayed like that for a while, breathing slowly as Hercules’ stereo played soft power ballads in the background.

 

“So,” Hercules coughed, and Laf opened their eyes. “I have this assignment and—I could really use a model. Would you mind…?”

 

“Ah, _non_ ,” Laf grinned, standing from the bed. “Do your fashion magic with me, _mon ami_!”

 

It became sort of a routine for them—Hercules would receive an assignment that required a model each week, and Lafayette would be glad to help. Alexander Hamilton did get better, and John spoke about him quite often until one day, as Lafayette waited in the bleachers, John brought him.

 

Lafayette’s throat closed up.

 

John and Alexander were—close wasn’t the word they were looking for.

 

It was quite impossible not to like him, though—not when he engaged with Lafayette in French, made jokes and spoke about human rights so passionately. After Hercules came out of the locker room and the team had flirted relentlessly with Lafayette, the four of them had decided to drop by John’s favourite bar.

 

It was a mess, in truth. At some point, John had risen up with an obviously illegal Sam Adams on his hand and introduced himself to everyone. In a bar where most people were of color, the comment _fuck cops! Am I right?!_ received a wonderful ovation. Lafayette, also drunk off their mind, had followed their best friend introducing themself and throwing a slight slur at Donald Trump. And then Hercules jumped on the table and began to free style.

 

At that point, Aaron Burr had interrupted them. He was a sophomore, also on the debate team, and he’d been giving the three of them shit for opening their mouths quite a couple of times.

 

“Oh, geniuses, lower your voices!” he called over the roar of the bar, seated next to Charles Lee, who seemed about to throw up on the floor. “You keep out of trouble and you double your choices! If you keep talking, you’re going to get shot!”

 

“Hey, Burr!” Alex, who had been sort of quiet throughout the night, stood, cheeks red. “If you stand for nothing, then what do you fall for?”

 

Lafayette watched, jaw dropped, as a collective ‘ _oooooh…!’_ reigned the bar. Burr narrowed his eyes, Alexander stood and then he _spoke_.

 

Perhaps Lafayette didn’t have much standards, or maybe they were polyamorous and they’d only just sorted that out inside their chaotic mind, but Alexander began to talk and Lafayette knew exactly why John seemed besotted with the damn kid.

 

He was wild, passionate, a hurricane building up and up and _up and up_ —and the moment he got in the middle of the crowd he looked right where he belonged. The topic went from police brutality to a criticism of capitalism to human rights to immigrants to his own philosophy in life and what _he_ wanted to do to help the United States and everyone was soon trapped in the enchanted net that was Alexander Hamilton’s charisma.

 

Burr was long gone, but Alexander did not stop.

 

“This kid is insane, man!” Hercules laughed.

 

It wasn’t until four in the morning that they left the bar, laughing through the streets of New York City.

 

“I may not live to see our glory,” Alexander declared solemnly, even though he wasn’t capable of walking straight. “But I will gladly join the fight.”

 

“Amen!” Hercules nodded, making Lafayette and John laugh.

 

“And when our children tell our story!” Alexander turned to his new friends. “They’ll tell the story of tonight!”

 

“Raise a glass to freedom!” John screamed drunkenly, and Lafayette would’ve fallen over if Hercules hadn’t been there to grasp their arm. “Something they can NEVER TAKE AWAY!”

 

“Raise a glass to the four of us!” Lafayette wrapped an arm around John’s neck and gave his cheek a sloppy kiss.

 

“Tomorrow there’ll be more of us!” Alexander promised. “Telling the story of tonight!”

 

“The story of tonight!” the other three chorused, laughing wildly.

 

And indeed, their children would tell the story of that night.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the indieverse.


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